


Pretty Little Red

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Boys Kissing, Crossdressing, Drinking, Drunk Derek Hale, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Frat Boy Derek Hale, Frat Boy Stiles Stilinski, Gay Panic, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 00:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21170237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Derek was just trying to enjoy the party. The last thing he expected was a pretty little thing dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood to come wondering into his life.





	Pretty Little Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveyProphet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyProphet/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Красная Шапочка и Серый Волк](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198944) by [Koma_ami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koma_ami/pseuds/Koma_ami)

The frat house was full of people all dressed up in Halloween costumes. There were the cliché costumes—Frankenstein’s monster, vampires, mummies wrapped in toilet paper, and ghosts that were just bed sheets with holes cut into them, etc—but a few had dressed up in some more creative costumes—Peter Pan, Ghostbusters, Batman, Spider-Man, there was even a group of guys dressed as Sailor Moon characters.

Derek looked down at himself. He was dressed in a pair of pants that were frayed at the hem and the torn rags of a shirt that left his firm biceps and abs exposed. His hands were covered by a pair of gloves that looked like the backs of his hands were covered in fur and his nails were claws. Erica had also worked some magic with makeup and prosthetics in order to make Derek’s face look more like a werewolf.

“Remind me again why I’m wearing this stupid costume,” Derek said, turning to look at Boyd.

Boyd was dressed as Superman, wearing a blue body suit that had a bright red S shield painted across the chest.

“Because it’s Halloween and it’s a costume party,” Boyd said bluntly, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand.

“What was wrong with the costume I had?” Derek asked.

“That wasn’t a costume; you looked exactly like you normally do,” Boyd replied.

“Yeah, because I was going as a serial killer,” Derek said, levelling his cold glare on Boyd. “And they look just like everyone else.”

“That ‘tough guy’ shit doesn’t work on me, Hale,” Boyd scoffed. He took another swig of his drink, finishing it. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you want another one?”

“No, thanks,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“Okay.”

Derek watched Boyd leave, his eyes drifting across the room to the figure that stood by open doorway.

They were dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, wearing a white shirt and a crimson skirt. A thick black belt was cinched around their waist like a corset, making the fabric of their shirt billow slightly. The red fabric of the skirt was lined with a frail white lace that billowed around their thighs, leaving their long, slender legs uncovered.

The look was finished off with a pair of glossy red heels and a crimson velvet coat.

Derek swallowed hard, his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Little Red turned slightly, smiling at Boyd as he passed.

Derek’s eyes flew open wide, his heart skipping a beat.

Derek was thrown off guard by his dark brown eyes, watching—mesmerised—as they caught the golden light and swirled like pools of golden liquor and honey. He raked his fingers through the tousled mess of his chestnut-brown hair, pulling it back from his face. His moonlight-pale skin was covered in moles that charted constellations.

Stiles.

The fraternity’s latest pledge.

Derek quickly looked away from Stiles, staring down at his feet as a wave of panic crashed over him.

_I’m not gay_, he thought. _Am I?_

The question rolled around in his head for a while.

He glanced out the corner of his eye, his gaze drifting to the hem of Stiles’ skirt as it brushed against his thighs. His gaze traces the curves of Stiles’ leg, up to the small of his back, and up to his neck.

_I’m not balls deep yet,_ he thought, _but _damn_ if I want to be._

He let out a deep sigh and made his way across the room to Stiles’ side.

“You lost, Little Red?” he asked.

Stiles looked up at him.

Derek leant one arm against the wall, leaning over Stiles and pinning him in place. A charming smile played across his lips as he looked down at Stiles’ honey-golden eyes. His voice was low and sultry as he said, “If you’re looking for a Big Bad Wolf, I’ll be yours.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You think this is funny?” Stiles asked bluntly. “I get it; you made the new pledge dress up in a dress and now you’re going to mess with him for shits and giggles. Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

“I’m not messing with you, I assure you,” Derek said quietly. “And the dress has nothing to do with it; I would just as happily see you out of it.”

Stiles blinked in surprise.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” Stiles teased. “I think you’re drunk.”

“Drunk off love,” Derek finished, meeting Stiles’ gaze. “Intoxicated by your eyes and enraptured by the melodic sound of your voice.”

Stiles burst out laughing.

“You’re kidding, right?” Stiles said between fits of laughter. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard. Poetic—but corny. You’re definitely drunk.”

“I mean it,” Derek said, his voice low as he leant in closer. “You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.”

“And _my_ what big eyes you have,” Stiles said mockingly.

“What do I have to do to convince you I’m being sincere?” Derek asked.

“Sober up and talk to me when I’m wearing pants,” Stiles replied bluntly.

Derek glanced down at the half-empty beer in his hands.

“I’m not drunk,” he promised. “A little tipsy maybe, but not drunk.”

Stiles levelled him with an unwavering unamused glare.

“Okay,” Derek said in defeat. “What can I say right now to convince you I’m being genuine?”

Stiles thought for a moment, gently gnawing on the corner of his lip as he thought. He turned to look back at Derek. “Tell what you like about me.”

“I like your smile,” Derek answered, honestly and without hesitation. “I like the way it dimples your cheeks and makes your eyes light up. I like how the chestnut-brown of your eyes become gold when you smile. And when you smile, it brightens up the room, and every time I see you smile it gives me butterflies in my stomach and makes my heart skip a beat.”

Stiles looked up at him, shocked.

“I like the way you don’t care about what people think about you,” Derek continued. “They dared you to put on a dress and you did without a care in the world. You talk about what you’re passionate about in a way that makes others interested. You could talk about anything and everything and people will listen.”

Stiles was at a loss for words, his lips quivering as he tried to find his voice.

“I like your eyes. They’re brown—but they’re not just brown. In the shadows they’re chocolate brown; in low light they’re chestnut brown; and in the sunlight, they turn to gold. They’re gorgeous—beyond words. And when I look into them, I lose myself. I forget what I’m saying. I lose track of my thoughts.”

Derek paused for a moment.

“You steal my breath away,” he admitted. “There isn’t a thing about you I don’t like.”

Before he knew it, Stiles closed the space between them and drew their lips together.

He let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as Stiles looped his arms around Derek’s neck, balling the soft worn cotton of Derek’s torn shirt into his fist and clinging to it.

Derek moved closer to Stiles, pressing his body against Stiles’ warmth and pinning the younger man against the wall. He cupped Stiles’ face with one hand, the other dropping to Stiles’ waist and pulling him close, enveloping him in his warmth.

Stiles sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, pulling soft tufts into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back.

His lungs burnt so much he wanted to cry but he desperately didn’t want to let go. He fell weakly into Derek’s arms.

They drew back, gasping for breath.

Stiles licked his lips and grinning at Derek’s stunned expression.

“Wow,” Derek whispered, breathless.

Stiles slid out from Derek’s hold, taking a step towards the open doorway. A mischievous smile lit up his face as he said, “Talk to me again when you’re sober.”

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving Derek standing there, stunned.

Boyd came back into the room, holding a beer. He looked from Derek to where his hazy eyes stared into the crowd of people in the next room, frowning in confusion.

“What did I miss?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Derek said quietly, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


End file.
